Raised by Robots, Elba, M Bison
(Comet, early show) Bay Area foursome Raised by Robots come through Seattle to support their new EP, Disorganization Will Save Us All. The disc's five tracks evoke a more introverted TV on the Radio or a less popwise Why? Guitarist/vocalist Cameron Spies shout-sings in that familiarly unruly indie-rock way while Raised by Robots' songs corkscrew, brood, and surge with requisite unexpectedness. Expect a moderate buzz to materialize around RBR any minute now. Seattle quartet Elba play artful, melodic rock with surprising dynamics that may trigger some knee-jerk prog disdain. We like a lot of prog, so Elba are cool with us. But don't get it twisted: This ain't no Mars Volta-ic display of grandiose virtuosity. Elba write tight, tuneful songs that don't require music-school degrees or knowledge of esoteric myths to enjoy. DAVE SEGAL

Ponytail, Oh Man!
(Vera) Composed of two guitarists, one drummer, one vocalist, and zero bassists, Baltimore art rockers Ponytail make a joyful post-punk racket that inevitably draws comparisons to Deerhoof, but none of that band's records have connected with me like Ponytail's 2008 release Ice Cream Spiritual, which offers 33 minutes of unfettered pleasure. Spicing up the art-damaged clamor: Molly Siegel, the band's lyric-rejecting, noise-making vocalist, whose output suggests Cocteau Twins' Elizabeth Fraser being stung by 400,000 bees in quick succession. Ponytail at Vera = a real-life teenage riot. DAVID SCHMADER

The Moondoggies, Widower
(Crocodile) A couple weeks back, the Moondoggies released a new limited-edition EP just in time for Record Store Day (a few copies may still be available at Easy Street and Sonic Boom). On it are early versions of "Keep Her on the Line" and "Black Shoe"—which you can hear in finished form on their full-length, Don't Be a Stranger—as well as some of the band's old demos. But the highlight, the song worth the $5 price alone, is "Nine Minute Song," which is the lo-fi, laid-back, and harmonica-heavy soundtrack to the life of my dreams, which involves a house at the end of a long, dusty road, a cold glass of lemonade, a sunset, and a porch swing. MEGAN SELING

Bassnectar, Gift of Gab
(Showbox at the Market) Seems like San Francisco DJ/producer Bassnectar (aka Lorin Ashton) treats Seattle as a second home these days. Six months after his last local gig, he returns to ripple your internal organs with his diverse palette of black-and-blue bass frequencies. Bassnectar's upful take on dubstep, breaks, hiphop, drum 'n' bass, IDM, and dancehall will get you—and possibly your bowels—moving. Blackalicious' Gift of Gab flexes some of the greatest double-jointed, contortionist lyrics in the history of rap; even if he mostly rhymes about how awesome a rhymer he is, Gab never fails to find ingenious ways to articulate that done-to-def subject. Thankfully, the productions supporting that flamboyant language—sometimes provided by Seattle's Vitamin D and Jake One, as they were on GOG's 4th Dimensional Rocketships Going Up—often match the MC's verbal dazzle. DAVE SEGAL

Husbands, Love Your Wives; Hoquiam; Carrie Biell; Bryan John Appleby; Whitney Ballen
(Greenhouse) Tonight's show is a going-away party for Husbands, Love Your Wives, aka local singer-songwriter Jamie Spiess, who is soon leaving Seattle for a new home in Denmark. If you haven't yet caught Spiess's live shows—which can range from arresting to awkward, from frighteningly spare solo sets to full-band performances flush with friendly musical collaborators—this might be your last chance for a while. It will also be your last chance to pick up a copy of her CD-Rs without the complications of international shipping. Opener Whitney Ballen is a young rising force in the Eastside's music scene (responsible for the POP425 compilation reviewed in this weeks' Underage), a solo acoustic performer whose voice is somehow both childlike and worn beyond its years. ERIC GRANDY

Love Battery, the Tripwires, Burning Rivers
(Sunset) For some rock fans, Love Battery were the best band ever to grace Sub Pop's huge roster. Researching the label's back catalog for a recent piece on Sub Pop's overlooked gems, I came thisclose to including Love Battery's Between the Eyes or Dayglo, but I temporarily spaced and forgot about them at the last minute. While they've probably recovered from this devastating slight, such a scenario seems all too typical of a group perennially underrecognized for their talents. While Love Battery—who include three-fourths of their original lineup—aren't the most out-there psych-rock outfit, they have mastered a distinctive brainy/brawny attack that's given Northwestern grunge weirdly hued wings; their songs stay in your head like pop tunes, but they sting your third eye into tears of joy, too. DAVE SEGAL

And as if that isn't enough, My Philosophy recommends Abstract Rude, and there are even more options in our music listings. Good luck deciding between all that.